


Never Looked Better

by Xyriath



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's a country boy at heart; he's never been good at parties, but he'll try his best.</p><p>Unless his boyfriend's honor is insulted.  Then all bets are off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Looked Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psyraah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/gifts).



> Written for the bae. Feel better. <3

Upper crust, Jean thought scornfully. Try crust inside his eye.

When they were children, he and Rebecca—mostly Rebecca—had play-imagined what it might be like to attend one of these fancy parties in Central, mingling in fancy clothing and sipping expensive drinks. Though the expensive drinks were pretty nice, there were a couple of things that childhood him hadn’t considered:

  1. He had not expected the fancy clothes to be a suit, or this uncomfortable.
  2. These people were _dicks._



He had expected some shit for his upbringing, and the half-concealed smirks from some people when he spoke, the slight twang of his Eastern accent faint but distinct, didn’t really bother him much.

But when they turned their haughty looks on _Kain_ …

Jean had some experience with military snobs. He ran into them from time to time, people who thought that the academy—which Jean had attended—or the State Alchemist’s exam were the only _acceptable_ method of entering the military with the intent to move past Warrant Officer. Those who had enlisted—as Kain had—the reasoning ran, beginning their service as a Private, were, well, lesser, and should stay that way.

Now bring that mindset into the high society of Amestris, where so many rich made a career of being high-ranked members of the military, where it brought status and prestige, and of _course_ Kain would be subject to disparaging remarks.

Nothing too overt, of course, as no one wanted to offend the railroad tycoons of the Fuery family, but Jean didn’t really care about the subtleties and _sneakiness_ that these people seemed to worship.

So he had called out that bullshit.

He had defended Kain, honorably, of course, and achieved victory on that front, but in the process, had left himself open to insults about his heritage, upbringing, manners, and several other topics that left Jean laughing in their faces. This had, however, brought _Kain_ into it, determined to return the favor.

And thus, after a fantastic blowup, both parties involved had all been sent to cool their heads outside—on _opposite_ sides of the household.

“I—I can’t _believe_ ,” Kain stammered out in rage, color high on his cheeks. “How _dare_ they talk to you like that—I’m—I’m going to—“

“Hey, hey,” Jean murmured, reaching out to wrap an arm around Kain’s shoulders—and it always surprised him, how easily his hugs engulfed him, how small they were, which of course sent his “need to protect” into overdrive, as always. “I’m okay. They’re snobs, yeah, but it doesn’t bug me, that they say that kinda shit. People always do, and it’s not ‘cause there’s anything wrong with it, not the way I see it. They just like to try to feel better than people, and the easiest way they can figure to do that is to make people feel worse. But it didn’t work on me, I promise.”

“But—“

“Don’t worry about me. I promise.” He stopped, then turned to face Kain, pulling his arm away and crouching so he could look up at him fondly, reaching out to take his hands. “I’m okay. What they say? Doesn’t matter to me, not one bit.” He tilted his head, voice still gentle. “But I know it does, to you. Are _you_ okay?”

Kain took a deep, shaking breath as he glanced away. “I… I’m just… I’m _angry_.”

And Jean was too, now, seeing what they had done to Kain. If he had his way, he’d go back in there and lay the lot of them out, show them exactly what Jean Havoc made happen when you messed with Kain Fuery. They deserved it, after all—who the hell could justify being mean to _Kain?_ His eagerness and kindness, his loyalty, his subtle yet brilliant sense of humor, it was all like kicking a damn puppy dog.

“I know.” Jean tugged Kain’s hands in to kiss the back of one, then the other. “And I’m sorry. I know I didn’t make things easy for you, bein’ who I am—“

“No!” Kain suddenly squeezed Jean’s hands tightly. “That’s not—no, I promise, you had nothing to do with this. I’m _not_ sorry I brought you,” he finished fiercely. “You deserve to be treated as well as— _better_ than half the people in there—I’ve grown up hearing their dirty secrets and seeing the way they turn up their nose at people they should be _helping_ and—and you’re just so brave and you’ve done so much for them and us and this entire country and to see them brush you _off_ like that, I can’t deal with it, I can’t let them—“

Jean stood, still bent over slightly, and took Kain’s face in his hands, then leaned in to kiss him earnestly, sliding his arms around Kain’s neck.

Kain sighed against Jean’s mouth, his hands reaching up to clutch his waist. He kissed back, his own earnestness with a tinge of desperation, and Jean did his best to coax it away, the stress, the anger. It was charming, he thought, how vehemently Kain defended him, and when he pulled away, pressing their foreheads together, he breathed, “I’m glad I’m with you. I’m… I’m real glad you’ll have me.”

Kain wrapped his arms around Jean tightly for a moment, pressing his face into Jean’s chest, and then pulled away, taking another shaky breath. “I… I’m sorry, I lost my temper.”

Jean reached out to press a finger gently to Kain’s nose, then dropped it, knowing that every time, as it did now, it made Kain smile. Reluctantly, yes, but at the next gentle kiss, he laughed a little, and by the time Jean was peppering his face—eyelids, cheeks, nose, forehead, chin—with tiny kisses, he was full on giggling, allowing it for a while before reaching up, taking Jean’s face—smooth; Jean had made _sure_ there was no scruff for this evening—and pulling him in for another kiss. This one was sweeter than the last, less desperation and frustration and more heartfelt affection.

And when Jean finally did pull back, he smirked.

“You know, you’re super adorable when you get all worked up about me like that.”

Kain gasped, jaw dropping in outrage as he gaped for a moment, then tried to glare viciously up at Jean. The effect was ruined by the twitch of the smile playing around his lips. “How _dare_ you!” he scoffs, but the smile finally wins out, and his face softens into a genuine, adoring smile.

“Because.” Jean leans in again, pressing his lips against Kain’s temple. “Because I’m not the only one who deserves to be happy and respected. You’re a hell of a brave man, one of the bravest I know, and I just wanna know that you’re all right.” Kain’s face had started to take on a slight flush, and Jean grinned, pressing the issue.

“And y’know what else, Kain Fuery? I love you.”

A gasp, a noise of shock, and a delighted laugh later, and the two of them were kissing again, entwined in each others’ arms below the moon, its light bathing softly down on them.


End file.
